Isn’t it sad when news reports regarding your changing from a black man to a white woman are met with gossip; when your dangling of your child from a balcony are met with disgust and reproach; when your admittance to sleeping with little children is met with revolt and complete despisal; yet your death is met with both “meh” attitudes and jokes?
Yes, Michael Jackson, the so-called King of Pop died a few hours ago. Yes, people die every day, and the fascination with celebrity deaths is a morbid tendency in human beings, for whatever reason.
But “Wacko Jacko”, as the tabloids called him, was no ordinary celebrity. Farrah Fawcett? Sure, she was a hottie that appeared on a TV show in the 70’s. David Carradine? Yeah, he kicked ass and was Bill. Ed McMahon? Well, he used to shill Cash4Gold… Michael Jackson was, for all intents and purposes, somewhat of an über-celebrity.
My relationship with the guy doesn’t amount to much – I rocked out to the Thriller album back in the early 80’s, enjoyed his part in “We Are The World”, kinda dug “Bad”, and liked his early 90’s song ‘Black and White’. That was it. Oh, and once I bought his HIStory Cd. I can’t remember who I lent it to, but I never saw it again.
His tabloid appearances didn’t do much for me. Nor did the rest of his professional career. To be honest, I didn’t even think his Thriller video was that much of a big deal. I cared very little that he could afford an amusement park in his home, or that he had a pet chimpanzee. In fact, I hated that of all people, he had the moniker of “The King Of Pop”.
Of course, how many people had collaborations with Sir Paul McCartney, Eddie Van Halen and Slash, among others? How many people have had their songs covered by (yes, they might not be the greatest in the world, but the covers were decent – or if not decent, at least well known) Alien Ant Farm, Chris Cornell and the Bloodhound Gang?
It was quite disturbing, in one of those weird coincidences, that while many songs from all over the place pop into my head for no apparent reason, the last week or so “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” has appeared in my mind, both the chorus and the final “mama-se mama-sa mama-cusa”, on separate occasions.
In any case, I was talking to my buddy JM on Messenger, probably about such adult subjects as Top Cat or Gleek, the pet monkey of the Wonder Twins, when he interrupted me with a HOLY SHIT! MICHAEL JACKSON IS DEAD!
Naturally, I immediately went over to Fark. If it was true, it would surely be there by now. And yes, under the guise of a ‘clever’ headline, there was a link to TMZ.
“Well”, I said to myself, “TMZ is not a trustwothy news source”. I immediately logged on to every fucking news site I could imagine – MSNBC, CNN, Fox News, AP, Reuters… about 10 minutes later, MSNBC had confirmed the news. Half an hour later, CNN and FOX still said MJ was in a coma. When I returned from a cigarette, pretty much everybody had been updated: Michael Jackson had indeed died.
During this time, I posted on Facebook. First that TMZ and MSNBC had confirmed. Then, CNN, Fox and AP. Finally Reuters. at the same time, others were making jokes. Stupid ones, at that. And everybody else had comments and “likes”. Except the guy who was reporting “live”, which leads me to think one of two things: either it is a clear indication that I should kill my Facebook account altogether, or that people are just too stupid for actual news and would rather “like” or comment on the jokes.
In any case, this isn’t about me, but about Michael Jackson. The guy died, abruptly, and nobody flinched. People were more distressed when he said he’d move to Bahrain.
In fact, nobody has even mentioned his string of concerts that were supposed to take place in London between July 2009 and March 2010. Everybody was too busy commenting that “his nose fell off!”. Morons.
Even though he wasn’t my idol by any stretch, when I do my shift on monday I’ll only wear my right glove. Just out of respect for the guy. My gloves are black, not white, but hey, “It don’t matter if you’re black or white”.
The Iceberg
June 26, 2009 at 8:25 am
About a week before the news said that he’d been bickering with his promoter in London because he was contractually bound to play 50 concerts in a row in said city, and the dude claimed he’d only agreed to a much smaller amount, say 15 or so. The contract was signed and he was pissed because he wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of it.
Think about it: 50 motherfucking concerts in the same city. Even in his prime, that would take a major toll on an artist. He’d supposedly been rehearsing for his great comeback tour. Guess it proved too much for the guy.
Somewhere in London a promoter is probably thinking 15 concerts wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
June 26, 2009 at 12:40 pm
True, but other washed-out celebrities do it in Vegas all the time, for example. Not a new concept.
Also, theatre performers in Broadway (as well as other places) do more than 50 shows in the same place.
But yeah, that promoter must be kicking himself right now, haha.